by Sara Fisher
This past Monday, I couldn't wait to go back to work. That's one thing I've learned since I had my son a year ago - weekends don't mean weekends anymore - at least in my sense of the word. It's not like my son knows the difference between Saturday and Tuesday, so he still gets up at his same early hour. This is not to say that my weekend routine is the same as my weekday routine. For one, I don’t have to go to work on the weekends. But, as I have found, change of venue doesn't equal relaxation.
Take this past weekend for example. I have been traveling a lot for personal reasons and work, so I wanted to take advantage of a weekend at home. I needed to be "productive." So I made a list of things that I had to accomplish: go to the grocery store, fill a prescription, attend a friend's daughter's birthday party, pick up two weeks worth of dry cleaning and somewhere in between make sure my son ate and napped. Oh yeah, and my husband had to work all day Saturday, making me a solo pilot in the "productive" department. My Saturday was akin to coordinating a three-ring circus without the fun animals. (A scary clown did make an appearance at the birthday party, however.)
By the end of the day, when my husband arrived home from work, I was spent. Yes, he was certainly exhausted after working a 70-hour week, but as I tried to tell him, "I'm tired too." That went over about as well as a dirty diaper.
I realized, however, after this particular errand-filled Saturday, that for me, there's something to be said about going into work. At work, I have the opportunity for a little peace. I have an office where I can shut the door. I can usually grab lunch at a time that suits me. Sometimes I can even go with a friend or colleague. I can typically create my own meeting schedule – I am not tied to nap times, snack times and play times. Some days, when my schedule is light, it's almost relaxing being in the office. Even on the busiest day at work, I am usually stationary at my desk or sitting in meetings - not running in and out of my car lugging a 21 lb. weight, a.k.a., my son. And, while all the lifting might be good for my biceps, it's not always good for creating a Zen state.
That's why I look forward to Mondays. You?